


Baby, Just Say 'Yes'

by NarryEm



Series: Broken Like a Promise verse [5]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 04:53:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1182159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NarryEm/pseuds/NarryEm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>But you were everything to me,</i><br/><i>I was begging you, "Please don't go."</i><br/><i>And I said...</i><br/><i>Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone.</i><br/><i>I'll be waiting; all that's left to do is run.</i><br/><i>You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess.Little did I know...</i> </p><p>or the where Harry and Niall finally get married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, Just Say 'Yes'

**Author's Note:**

> title and summary from "Love Story" by Taylor Swift.

Harry still can't believe that it's happening.

The summer has gone and the winter's cold winds have replaced the sunny warmth. October is a bit dreary, Harry will admit, but not with what lies ahead.

He smiles as he drifts off to relive the memory.

 

 

-

 

 

_"Harry Edward Styles," Niall says, eyes shining bright with the emotions that were swirling inside of him. "I have promised you forever before but failed to fulfill it. Now, I ask of you again and this time, I _will_ follow through with this vow no matter. Will you do me the honour of marrying me?" _

Tears begin to overflow in Harry's eyes and he can't speak past the lump in his throat. So he manages a shakey nod instead.

Niall laughs and springs up to hug him. They don't let got of one another, not until Niall pulls back to look him in the eye and whisper, "I love you, so much. You've no idea."

He then kisses him, he kisses Harry with every burning emotions that he's got inside him and Harry does the same.

"I swear, I'll never leave you again."

 

-

 

"Harry," Gemma whines. "You still haven't picked the colour schemes or even the tux for you and Niall's wedding!"

Harry sighs. Okay, so the wedding is five weeks away but so what? That's what the wedding planners are hired to do, yeah?

"Gem, Tiffany is going to take care of it," he says for the thousandth time. "I don't know anything about what colours look best together and besides, a tux is a tux, plain and simple."

His sister huffs. "But it's all about the cut and the style!! You can't bloody turn up in in just any tuxedo for your wedding. Everything has got to be perfect, including what colour your bowties will be and what kind of blazer your is going to be. _Boys."_

"And we'll figure it out this weekend with Caroline. She used to style us for tours and I'm sure she knows what looks good on me. And aren't you supposed to go bed frame shopping?"

Gemma rolls her eyes. "Yes, but it can wait another week or two. My baby brother is finally getting married and it's much of a bigger deal than my baby outgrowing her crib, yeah? Oh gosh, we have to discuss the bridesmaid dresses. What should the colour be? Long or short? Sleeves or no sleeves because mind you, I won't be happy taking photos outside in the freezing in a strapless dress."

Harry rolls his eyes. "I'm sure you'll manage. Go bug Tiffany, for crying out loud. She has everything planned out, I'll wager, down to what the plates are gonna look like."

 

 

-

 

 

Later that day, Harry lets himself into Niall's flat. It's a quarter past eight and he knows that Niall has a recording session with some new kid who is supposed to be the next big thing.

"Hey babe," Niall greets him, clad only in jeans and pouring himself a glass of dark red wine. "How's your day been?"

"Annoying," Harry answers, going forwards to hug Niall and bury his face in the crook of his neck. "Gemma's been a right neurotic with all the worrying about every single detail of our wedding. You would think that it's her getting married, not her little brother."

Niall laughs. "She's a bird. They tend to make big deals out of things that aren't."

Harry grunts at that. If it were up to him and Niall, they would say their vows in front of a pastor with just their families and friends as witnesses, with no big fuss. But no, his mum and sister want to make this a memorable occasion by making it a big celebration with a professional photographer/video director so that they can show it to their kids down the road.

"At least I have the honeymoon planned out," Niall says oh-so-casually.

Harry nearly spews out the wine he stole from Niall. "Already?"

"Yep. It's a secret though. Super romantic and all that."

Harry glares at him. "I hate you. How 'm I supposed to know what to pack if all I know is nothing?"

"I'll pack everythin' for you when the time comes," Niall winks.

 They are leant against the kitchen island and their mouths have come awfully close to one another. Niall smirks around the wine glass and something about the dimmed kitchen light makes it look like there's a faint halo around his boyfriend. Smiling, Niall closes the distance between them in a searing kiss.

Kissing Niall is one of the best things Harry has ever experienced. Niall has two settings. There's on where he is feeling lazy and lets Harry do all the work, languid tongue and fingers tangling into his hair. They don't really fight for dominance, as they both settle for a slow dance that leaves them burning up. And there's the other one where Niall is all burning flames, consuming Harry with dizzying desire and passion and so much more that it makes Harry's head spin around. He can't pick a favourite because both types of kisses are exhilarating in their own ways.

Right now, Niall is slow and teasing, light strokes of his tongue against Harry's lips and then along the roof of his mouth once he is let in. But Harry doesn't want that. He's been bombarded with questions the entire afternoon and the least he deserves is a domineering Niall who will take and take and only return electrifying pleasure to Harry.

So he grips at the back of Niall's neck tightly, almost to the point of pain. Up until now, Niall has been pinned to the island. But as soon as Niall catches on, he spins them around so that he can lift Harry up to the island. The kiss heats up by a thousand degrees, lips devouring one another and hands roaming everywhere.

It doesn't take long for Niall to carry Harry to his bedroom and shut the door behind them.

 

 

-

 

 

_"I've dreamt about this, you know," Harry whispers, eyes closed against the bright rays of the tropical sun._

_"Yeah?" Niall asks, tilting his head sideways to look at his fiance._

_"When you first proposed to me. I thought of what kind of wedding ceremony we would have, what we would wear, where we'd go for our honeymoon, the works. And then you left me so I had to let them go."_

_Niall shifts so that one of his legs is slung over Harry's. "I'm here to stay, Haz. And I never stopped lovin' ya, and never will. We'll buy a big house and move in as soon as we can. We'll adopt as many kids as you'd like and then pets too, 'cause you are such a cat lady. We'll grow old together and even when we are wrinkly and ancient and gross, I'll still feel the same around you. I won't be makin' the same mistakes again."_

_Harry nods. He wants to say something but the breath is stolen away from him as Niall's lips descend upon his and nudge at him. Apparently he has zero willpower for all things Niall because he can't stop himself from kissing him back. He giggles when Niall rolls them around on the sandy beach. He'll blame Niall later if he finds sand in unmentionable places. But now, he just wants to enjoy this._

 

 

-

 

 

Today is a big day.

 

Okay, it's not as big as their wedding, obviously, but today is the day that Harry and Niall are moving into their new house.

It's a fucking mansion, that's what it is. They had to go a bit outside of London since they both despise the infamous London traffic. But they couldn't move entirely away from the city as Niall has a job as a songwriter (and sometimes guitarist). It's situated by a forest and there's plenty of yard space everywhere. The inside is quite antique, something reminiscent of the Victorian era. The wooden staircase creaks in several steps and Harry swears that most doors screech like ghosts at night. But it's alright because it comes with ten bedrooms and two bedrooms each share a bathroom. And the master bedroom is something worthy of becoming an art exhibition. The four-poster bed is a huge monstrosity that takes up more than half the space and all the furniture are lovely. The bathroom has been renovated to support a hot tub and a marble shower that looks really nice.

They rented out a truck so that they could fit in all of their belongings. Harry personally doesn't have a lot but Niall is a different story. First are his collection of guitars, not to mention the small drum kit. Then he has so many clothes and other stuff that Niall declares to be 'abso-fucking-lutely necessary for life.' So even with the truck, it takes them two trips to take everything to their new house.

"You are so ridiculous,' Harry pants out as he and Niall carry a box of what feels like bricks into the house.

"This is only me kitchen appliances," Niall defends himself. "Kettle, pots, and whatever."

"Says the lad who lives on takeaway."

"Ma's taught me how to cook. And I throw a mean barbecue party."

Harry sticks his tongue out. "Yes because that counts as actual food with actual nutrients. These days, you can buy pre-packaged barbecue stuff, I think."

Niall lets go of his end for a second, making Harry scramble to keep his balance. The little fucker laughs. "That's what you get for takin' the piss out of me cooking skills."

"By nearing dropping a mountain on my foot?" Harry exclaims. "Violence is never the answer."

"Yeah, yeah. You can cook for both of us then, since you've so much faith in me workin' the kitchen."

"Fine, I will."

"I'll be lookin' forward to it."

 

Bringing in the boxes alone take half the day. The actual unpacking, Harry supposes, will take them a couple days.

Or not.

When he goes into his and Niall's room, he is at first confused because _where has the floor gone??_

"Hey," Niall says, hurling more stuff out from the suitcase.

"What have you done?"

"Unpacking. Don' worry; I'll put them away soon. I need to see what's there before I can organise them."

"The room's become a pigsty, Ni."

Niall shrugs. "Gimme a mo and it'll be back to its former glory."

Harry scowls. "How am I supposed to unpack my things then? You've taken up all the space."

"There's the bed. Like, use that until I've put away enough stuff?"

"You're so selfish!"

"Tryna work here," Niall dismisses the comment.

"And you're so messy. I remember you always ending up trashing the hotel rooms whilst we were on tour. The maids hated you, I'll wager."

Niall huffs. "I'm not that bad. Besides, there's no turnin' back now. You love me and me filthy ways." The way his voice drops at the word 'filthy' doesn't leave much to the imagination.

"I'm not having sex with you until you clean up this mess," Harry declares.

"Oh that's just plain mean."

"So is turning our new bedroom into a right mess."

Niall pouts. "Fine. I'm not having sex with you until you learn to live with this."

Then he goes to pull of his shirt, even though it's freezing out and the upstairs area is still chilly with the heating on. Years at the gym and healthier diet has done Niall good. Now his body is compact with a nicely defined six pack and delectable arms from playing the guitar and drums. (And Harry knows first-hand how talented those fingers are) Sweat is beginning to glisten on Niall's naked torso and Harry has to force himself to look away before he does something stupid like lick the sweat off of him.

Nope, definitely not going there.

Instead, he chooses to lug his own stuff up the stairs and starts to unpack his clothes. Unlike Niall, he sets up near the walk-in closet so that he can hang up the clothes as he progresses. But that doesn't mean that he is above sneaking glances at Niall and mentally undressing him further.

Half an hour passes in this manner and is it just Harry or has the heating actually kicked in? He blames Niall, who is even sweatier and sexier-looking as he goes through the piles of clothes strewn out across the floor.

He gives in and crosses the room in long strides and knocks the vest out of Niall's hands so that he can kiss him properly. Niall is smirking into the kiss, he can feel it, so he kisses him roughly. Niall meets him rough for rough, love for love, and passion for passion. And if they end up christening their new bedroom on piles of unsorted clothes, well, they have to live before they get any older, yeah?

 

 

-

 

 

One week to go and Harry is definitely feeling the nerves.

His custom-designed tuxedo (' _By the head designer at Jean Paul Gaulthier!_ ' Gemma screeched at his fashion ignorance.) arrived today and it looks perfect. It's a traditional black with a deep green bow tie. He imagines that Niall may have gotten a tie that matches his eye colour as well. He is wearing it now and Gemma hasn't stopped cooing ever since he's put it on.

"I swear, Gem," he threatens. "Make one more comment about your 'baby brother growing up and finding love and getting his happily ever after' one more time and I will uninvite you."

Gemma gasps. "You can't uninvite me! I'm your sister and maid of honour. It will be my duty to embarrass the living hell out of you at the reception!"

"Then keep your mouth shut. Sometimes you're even worse than Mum."

Anne chuckles as she walks in with a tray of tea and biscuits. "Sorry, love. I think she's got it from me. But you have to admit, it is rather adorable. From the moment you were put in a band together, I always sensed that something was different between you and Niall. I mean, you went to his family home for Christmas and even learnt a few Irish words to impress him. Now that's effort."

Harry sighs. "Not you too, Mum. I get enough from Gem and Lou as it is."

Anne giggles. "Facts are facts, love. Now give your mum a little twirl. I want to see how dashing you'll look next week!"

With an obligatory eye-roll, he does as he is told.

"Perfect. This is one of the perks of having been in a boy band, eh? Clothes that actually fit and early retirement."

"Mum!" Harry exclaims, embarrassed. Okay, so maybe, being such a beanpole, he has never learnt how to buy properly fitting clothes but still. That was uncalled for.

"Alright, alright. But we still have to go over the menu for reception. The chef wanted to confirm a few of the choices that you and Niall came up with and help improve some of it. Something about harmony, I don't know."

Today is going to be a long day.

 

 

-

 

 

"Where are we?" Harry asks.

All he gets is a chuckle. Harry doesn't think that the blindfold was really all that necessary. Like they are probably going to a stripper club so why bother trying to surprise him?

They reach their destination after what seems like a thousand years and Harry feels himself being guided up some stairs and then into a lift. He can vaguely make out a distant dance music as they get closer to whatever his mates had planned.

"Ok, Haz," Louis smirks. "You can take it off now."

He does.

And flushes a bright shade of red.

"Uhm, Lou, Zayn. Why are we in a dance studio. _With stripper poles_?"

Zayn and Louis burst out laughing, leaning on one another for support.

"It's to spice things up in the bedroom department," Zayn explains. "And all of us a shit at dancing so there will be an actual session for ballroom dancing too, don't worry. But first, we will learn the fine art of pole dancing and lap dance."

The instructor is lovely, she really is. The problem is, no matter how excellent the teacher is, Harry was not born to dance. At all.

But at least he knows the basics of a lap dance, that's a positive.

Turns out, there's more to a lap dance than just grinding down onto the person's lap and humping them. You have to play by the "close enough bto touch but not quite rule. Amd there's the whole business of keeping his balance whilst his hands are otherwise occupied.

It's all in good fun and the ballroom dancing lesson proves to be helpful, much to his relief. (He only steps on the instructor's foot five times.)

 

 

-

 

 

"You ready, Harry?" Robin asks.

Harry manages a shaky nod. "As ready as I'll ever be."

He is stood in his own dressing room, feeling as though the collar of his shirt is suffocating him. The day has come and he hasn't been allowed to see Niall since two days ago.

Robin takes his hand and together they walk to the alter. Since both he and Niall are blokes, there won't be a part where their fathers hand them off. Instead, they will both be walking down the aisle together. And if Harry is right, Grimmy will be the master of ceremonies (oh the horror. Nick has known Harry for a _long_ time) and Liam will be playing the famous Wagner march. The lights in the corridor seem exceptionally bright as he steps outside his dressing room. He draws in a shaky breath as they turn the corner. And the breath stays stuck. Harry has seen Niall in suits and tuxes. With being a popstar came film premieres and other formalities that entailed dress codes.

But now, Niall looks proper radiant.

He is wearing a dark blue tux, not unlike the one he wore for their date on the Eiffel Tower. His hair has been gelled back and the colour of his bow tie matches his blue, blue eyes. He grins at Harry and Harry can feel his heart melting inside his ribcage. The knowledge that they will soon be wed and some other psychological factors must be playing a trick on him. He swears that he has never seen any man more beautiful than Niall right now.

"Hello there," Niall says. ''You look smashing."

"Same goes to you. Shall we?"

Niall offers his arm to Harry and Harry takes it. The doors to the alter opens and the march starts to play immediately. Harry has always been a crier at weddings and he has to remember that he is supposed to be happy and not make a fool out of himself by tripping over thin air. He sees the familiar faces and he and Niall walk past them, and there are tears in their eyes as well. And his mum, christ, she is already full-on crying.

Nick is at the podium up front and he does whatever he is supposed to. And before Harry is aware of it, it's time for him to say the vows.

"Do you, Harry Edward Styles, vow to take Niall James Horan as your lawfully wedded husband?" the priest asks.

"I do," Harry says, albeit with a strained voice.

"Do you, Niall James Horan , vow to take Harry Edward Styles as your lawfully wedded husband?" the priest asks.

"I do." Niall replies, eyes burning with sincerity.

"Then I pronounce you man and husband. You may now kiss each other."

Harry sees the relief and endless love in Niall's eyes before their lips. It doesn't matter that they are stood in front of dozens of people because as soon as their lips meet, the rest of the world ceases to exist. The only thing that does exist is Niall and the fact that they love each other. And they are married. He is now Harry Styles-Horan, Niall's husband. They are going to spend the rest of their lives together, until they are grey and decrepit.

Tears have fallen upon his cheeks and Niall's thumb brushes it away. Too soon, they end their kiss, suddenly aware of the catcalls and Louis' distinct and loud, "Save it for the honeymoon, kiddos." Harry has the decency to blush; Niall doesn't.

Their guest cheer and clap and he and Niall walk down the aisle again, but this time as a married couple. There are streams and confetti raining down upon them and well, Harry knows that under normal circumstances, Niall would be running around to catch them like a four-year-old.

He has all he could ever want.


End file.
